


Kevin Price, Failed Evangelist

by slytherintbh



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Arnold Cunningham Saves The Day, Death Threats, Edgy Teen Kevin Price, Gen, Guns, Hasa Diga Eebowai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 17:01:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8808766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherintbh/pseuds/slytherintbh
Summary: In which no books are inserted into anuses, but Kevin doesn't have a particularly fantastic time anyway.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i had to get this out of my system so

“Do you have any last words?”

Kevin rather thought that he probably did, but at the moment, none of them would form anything coherent. His mind was blanketed in fear; as much as he tried not to, he couldn’t help but focus on the ring of metal pressing obnoxiously onto the back of his head. That, and the rough material holding his hands together, sitting just a touch too tight and cutting into his circulation.

To think, he’d waltzed into camp  _ singing _ . He’d decided to put his faith back into his Heavenly Father and it had all gone -

-wrong. 

The warlord said something that Kevin didn’t understand, sounding entirely dismissive. Kevin was almost offended that he wasn’t even a  _ significant _ threat. Was he going to die in total irrelevance?

Then the gun clicked and his indignance disappeared.

_ Hasa Diga Eebowai _ , Kevin thought. Really. God was an asshole. Fuck him. 

“Perhaps he wants his book?” a guard questioned, voice thickly accented. 

“I can think of places to put his book,” the warlord replied, and laughed darkly. Kevin seriously hoped that was an empty threat. He never wanted to see the damn thing again, never mind having to be so… closely acquainted with it. Its black leather cover came spiralling into view as it was thrown across the ground towards the (ex?) Mormon.

Kevin didn’t move.

“I suppose not.” The gun shifted slightly, to sit more centrally at the back of Kevin’s skull. “It is extreme, but we should make an example for the village. Are you sure you have no last words?”

He thought, very suddenly, of Orlando. And his mother. Kevin loved his mother. He wondered how she would feel, knowing that she had sent her son away to die. There had been many things he had wanted to do. Initially, to convert everyone - now, he thought he would have liked to have learned to draw. Maybe try coffee. Get the hell out of the church that had never made any fucking sense  _ anyway - _

“Hasa Diga Eebowai,” he announced, savagely.

For some reason, this was absolutely  _ hysterical _ to the guards. The gun shifted away as the man behind him crumpled with laughter, exclaiming something in Swahili. Kevin was trying to shuffle away when there was a distinctly familiar cry.

_ “BEST FRIEND!” _

Arnold Cunningham had never been a more blissful sight to Kevin’s eyes, brandishing a stolen machine gun. “Get back, evil fiends! We will never give in to the dark side.” Then he paused, tapping on his chin. “Oh. Perhaps I shouldn’t put it like that, considering -” 

“ _ Arnold”, _ Kevin hissed. 

“Right, right! Now go away, before I turn you all into - elves - from the land of the lesbians!” 

This threat was apparently enough for the guards, who promptly dropped their weapons and walked away. Something suggested to Kevin that it was more the hefty gun which scared them than the odd declaration, but he gave a particularly wide smile to his mission companion regardless. Satisfied, Arnold ran over and untied the ropes. “Gosh, are you ok? It’s lucky I got here when I did.”

“Yes. Very. Thank you.” Shaking with sudden relief, Kevin pulled his friend into a tight hug, breathing tightly as a sturdy arm rubbed at his back. “I - oh god -”

“I’m here, I’ve got you.” Arnold began to drag him to the camp exit. “Rule 72 was useful for some things, huh?”

“Yeah.” Brows knitting together, Kevin relinquished his hold and simply took Arnold’s hand. “I don’t understand - how you knew where I was?”

“There was word going round that one of the white boys was being tortured.” Cunningham pointed his gun at the guard of the gate and they were let through without any trouble. He gave a concerned hum. “You weren’t, were you?”

“They smacked me about a bit,” Kevin admitted.

“Yeah, but apparently there was some, like,  _ real _ loud screaming, like someone was having their stomach-”

Blushing, Kevin raised a hand. “Perhaps I was a little bit more dramatic than was necessary.”

“Why is that easy to believe?” Arnold teased, and nudged Kevin in the side. “Now come on home, buddy.”

Kevin nodded gratefully, exhausted by his emotional turmoil. Honestly, he did go through a lot, to say he got so little out of it. If there  _ was  _ anything to get out of it at all. Part of him was increasingly certain that his heavenly reward was illusory.

In any case, hell dreams wouldn’t be necessary anymore. There were far scarier things than hell.


End file.
